Saturday, April 11, 2020

Stow's cold pool three quarters full of ice.

April 11

P. M. – To Cliffs. 

The hills are now decidedly greened as seen a mile off, and the road or street sides pretty brightly so. 

I have not seen any lingering heel of a snow-bank since April came in. 

Acer rubrum west side Deep Cut, some well out, some killed by frost; probably a day or two at least. 

Hazels there are all done; were in their prime, methinks, a week ago at least. 

The early willow still in prime. Salix humilis abundantly out, how long? 

Epigæa abundantly out (probably 7th at least). 

Stow's cold pool three quarters full of ice. 


April 11, 2020
My early sedge, which has been out at Cliffs apparently a few days (not yet quite generally), the highest only two inches, is probably Carex umbellata.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 11, 1860

The hills are now decidedly greened. See  April 10, 1855 ("There is the slightest perceptible green on the hill now."); April 14, 1854 ("There is a general tinge of green now discernible through the russet on the bared meadows and the hills, the green blades just peeping forth amid the withered ones.");April 17, 1856 ("There is a quite distinct tinge of green on the hillside seen from my window now."); April 22, 1855 ("The grass is now become rapidly green by the sides of the road, promising dandelions and butter cups."); April 25, 1859 ("I got to-day and yesterday the first decided impression of greenness beginning to prevail, summer-like."); April 28, 1854 ("Perhaps the greenness of the landscape may be said to begin fairly now. . . .during the last half of April the earth acquires a distinct tinge of green, which finally prevails over the russet") See also April 2, 1855 ("Green is essentially vivid, or the color of life, and it is therefore most brilliant" when a plant is moist or most alive. . . . The word, according to Webster, is from the Saxon grene, to grow, and hence is the color of herbage when growing. ")

I have not seen any lingering heel of a snow-bank since April came in. See March 6, 1860 ("I can scarcely see a heel of a snow-drift from my window")

Acer rubrum west side Deep Cut, some well out. See April 11, 1853 ("The maple which I think is a red one, just this side of Wheildon's, is just out this morning"); see also  April 1, 1860 ("The red maple buds are considerably expanded, and no doubt make a greater impression of redness."); April 6, 1853 ("Notice a white maple with almost all the staminate flowers above or on the top, most of the stamens now withered, before the red maple has blossomed. "); April 10, 1853 (''The male red maple buds now show eight or ten (ten counting everything) scales, alternately crosswise, and the pairs successively brighter red or scarlet, which will account for the gradual reddening of their tops. They are about ready to open."); April 13, 1854 ('The red maple in a day or two. I begin to see the anthers in some buds. So much more of the scales of the buds is now uncovered that the tops of the swamps at a distance are reddened."); April 18, 1856 ("Red maple stamens in some places project considerably, and it will probably blossom to-morrow if it is pleasant. "); April 22, 1855 ("Red maple yesterday, — an early one by further stone bridge."); April 23, 1856 ("The red maple did not shed pollen on the 19th and could not on the 20th, 21st, or 22d, on account of rain; so this must be the first day, — the 23d."); April 24, 1854 ("The first red maple blossoms — so very red over the water — are very interesting. ");April 24, 1857 ("I see the now red crescents of the red maples in their prime . . . above the gray stems."); April 26, 1855 ("The blossoms of the red maple (some a yellowish green) are now most generally conspicuous and handsome scarlet crescents over the swamps. “); April 26, 1860 ("Red maples are past prime. I have noticed their handsome crescents over distant swamps commonly for some ten days. At height, then, say the 21st. They are especially handsome when seen between you and the sunlit trees."); April 28, 1855 ("The red maples, now in bloom, are quite handsome at a distance over the flooded meadow beyond Peter’s. The abundant wholesome gray of the trunks and stems beneath surmounted by the red or scarlet crescents.”); April 29, 1856 ("Sat on the knoll in the swamp, now laid bare. How pretty a red maple in bloom (they are now in prime), seen in the sun against a pine wood, like these little ones in the swamp against the neighboring wood, they are so light and ethereal, not a heavy mass of color impeding the passage of the light, and they are of so cheerful and lively a color."); April 29, 1859 ("Those red maples are reddest in which the fertile flowers prevail.")

The early willow still in prime. See  April 12, 1852 (“See the first blossoms (bright-yellow stamens or pistils) on the willow catkins to-day.. . . It is fit that this almost earliest spring flower should be yellow, the color of the sun.”); April 15, 1852 ("I think that the largest early-catkined willow in large bushes in sand by water now blossoming -- the fertile catkins with paler blossoms, the sterile covered with pollen, a pleasant lively bright yellow -- is the brightest flower I have seen thus far. I notice that the sterile blossoms of that large-catkined early willow begin to open on the side of the catkin, like a tinge of golden light, gradually spreading and expanding over the whole surface and lifting their anthers far and wide.").

Salix humilis abundantly out, how long? See April 9, 1858 ("The staminate Salix humilis in the path in three or four days. Possibly it is already out elsewhere, if, perchance, that was not it just beginning on the 6th on the Marlborough road. The pistillate appear more forward. It must follow pretty close to the earliest willows.")

Hazels there are all done; were in their prime, methinks, a week ago at least. See April 11, 1856 ("The hazel sheds pollen to-day; some elsewhere possibly yesterday. . . . You thread your way amid the rustling oak leaves on some warm hillside sloping to the south . . . when, glancing along the dry stems, in the midst of all this dryness, you detect the crimson stigmas of the hazel, like little stars peeping forth, and perchance a few catkins are dangling loosely in the zephyr and sprinkling their pollen on the dry leaves beneath.") See also April 7, 1854 ("The hazel stigmas are well out and the catkins loose, but no pollen shed yet." ) ; April 9, 1856 ("The stigmas already peep out, minute crimson stars"); April 13, 1855 ("Many minute, but clear crystalline crimson stars at the end of a bare and seemingly dead twig."). Also see A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Hazel.

Epigæa abundantly out (probably 7th at least). See April 4, 1859 ("The flower-buds are protected by the withered leaves, oak leaves, which partly cover them, so that you must look pretty sharp to detect the first flower"); April 13, 1858 ("Epigaea abundantly out, maybe four or five days.")/ See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Epigaea

Stow's cold pool three quarters full of ice. See April 16, 1855 ('Stow’s cold pond-hole is still full of ice though partly submerged, —the only pool in this state that I see.")

My early sedge, which has been out at Cliffs apparently a few days is probably Carex umbellata. See April 7, 1854 ("On the Cliff I find, after long and careful search, one sedge above the rocks, low amid the withered blades of last year, out, its little yellow beard amid the dry blades and few green ones, — the first herbaceous flowering I have detected. );  April 10, 1855 ("As for the early sedge, who would think of looking for a flower of any kind in those dry tufts whose withered blades almost entirely conceal the springing green ones? I patiently examined one tuft after another, higher and higher up the rocky hill, till at last I found one little yellow spike low in the grass which shed its pollen on my finger."); April 22, 1852 ("The early sedge (Carex marginata) grows on the side of the Cliffs in little tufts with small yellow blossoms, i.e. with yellow anthers, low in the grass.");


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